


Breath and Life

by steelneena



Series: Widomauk Week 2k19: With A Twist [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Pre Relationship, Widomauk Week 2019, canon typical gore, post rez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 23:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19095034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelneena/pseuds/steelneena
Summary: Prompt 2: Giving





	Breath and Life

**Author's Note:**

> Another fun twist. A few things are given here. Most less conventional than the usual.

He’s bleeding out. 

Caleb is bleeding out on the ground, and Molly’s chest is heaving from the exertion that it took to get to him, to get to his side. The clerics are busy keeping the rest up, and though Caduceus looked torn, he’d turned away upon seeing Molly dash to their fallen friend. 

It’s the first time  _ anyone _ has gone down since Molly’s been back and he doesn’t know what to do. 

There’s blood everywhere. On the ground, in Caleb’s hair, on his chest and lips, even his long, lovely eyelashes. The sword had been wrenched from his body but spare seconds after the bugbear joined the fray. They hadn’t even seen him come up behind Caleb. 

For all the many things Molly can do with blood, putting it back where it came from is  _ not _ one of those things. He leans down, swords at his sides, to press both hands to the wound, watching as blood burbles at Caleb’s lips from the pressure. It’s not a good sign.

“Hang on, Caleb. Hang on. Just a little longer!”

He’s trying desperately to remember anything he’d ever been told back in the carnival about stifling wounds and keeping people alive. 

And then, Caleb’s head rolls back and he’s out like a light and Molly begins to panic. 

It’s  _ Caleb _ , and he can’t let anything bad happen to Caleb, even though the second worst thing possible has  _ already  _ happened. 

“Shit, shit,  _ fuck _ , Caleb, hey, Caleb-” Molly slaps him hard across the cheek, but there’s nothing and Molly runs his hands, bloodied now, over his face in fear. He must look a nightmare, but he doesn’t mind, because Caleb’s stopped moving. Caleb’s stopped breathing. 

Caleb has stopped. 

And then, all at once, it hits Molly, the exact memory. He makes a fist and covers it with his other hand, positions it over Caleb’s chest and begins to hum a song with the same cadence as his heartbeat, pushing down so hard that he hears a terrible snap. 

Twice. 

Three times. 

Then ten.

Molly quits pressing on Caleb’s chest, instead bending down to roll Caleb’s head back, straightening his neck. Then, finally, Molly leans down, pinches Caleb’s nose for good measure, and presses an opened mouthed kiss to his breathless lips, sending air streaming in, filling Caleb’s lungs with his own breath. 

Again, and again.

Nothing.    
  
He makes the fist and again and continues, his whole focus is on Caleb. On his still form, on his parted lips, on the eerie feel of a man without a heartbeat lying below him and, momentarily, Molly wonders if anyone did this for him, or it they just gave up. 

Gave up and let him die. 

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. It’s all in the past, after all. And he  _ won’t _ give up on Caleb. He can’t. 

He leans back in and pushes air into Caleb’s lungs, expanding them again and again and then - 

Caleb’s coughing and spluttering on the ground, but he’s breathing once more and Molly goes immediately back to pressing his hands over the wound. 

“I’ve got you, Caleb,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

And then the clerics are on them and Molly’s pushed unceremoniously out of the way as Jester presses her soft healing magic into Caleb’s wounds, and he’s left to watch on, suddenly nervous in a way he hadn’t been before, like he’s done something wrong, something unforgivable and Caleb will know it when he comes to full consciousness later. Caleb will look at him and pass judgement and Molly will slink off later, by himself, and overthink it. Everything is different since he came back and he’s still not sure how he fits, anymore, if he’s pressed his limits with Caleb, or if that sort of thing is permissible now. 

The rational part of his brain reminds him, of course, that he’d just saved Caleb’s life, so it might have been a moot point, but the nervous raptor in his chest snaps at rationality, silencing it for good.

He almost misses it when all is said and done, and the ground is littered with blood and viscera and bodies, and Beau has Caleb’s arm over her shoulder, supporting him as they start off for an area less saturated with bodily fluids. Molly hangs back, watching them go, snapping fondly at one another as they heal up in bursts, seeming not to notice that he’s not trotting along behind them.

And then, a large pale grey hand falls on his shoulder. “Wait for it,” says Caduceus.

“ _ MOLLYYYYYYYYY! _ ” Jester calls. 

“Coming!” He calls back, turning to look up and up at the firbolg. “How did you know?” 

“They missed you.” 

Molly takes a moment to move, even though Caduceus starts off without him. He still feels like he’s walking on uneven ground, but, after a moment, he continues on, even rushing to get back up to pace with Yasha, who pauses to hold out her hand for him. He reaches her, taking it and allowing her to pull him into a very secure,  _ very _ firm side hug. It feels good. It feels like home, but he still can’t help but eye Caleb from his peripherals, heart fluttering wildly in his chest, the image of Caleb’s still form emblazoned in Molly’s vision, like the sun had burned it there. 

But then, Caleb has always burned brightly, so maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise. 

He tries not to think about it. 

It’s a valiant, but vain effort, for Caleb is  _ all _ Molly thinks of for the next several hours. They’re ensconced inside Caleb’s magical dome, cozy -  _ very cozy -  _  and warm. Everyone is sleeping but Molly. He volunteered for watch alone, insisting that Yasha get her sleep. No one else made too big of a fuss, but Beau did eye him up something fierce and he knows that he’ll have to deal with her round of questioning sooner or later. That doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

The moonlight filters through the hut, landing precisely on Caleb’s peaceful, healthy, sleeping face, because  _ of course _ it does,  _ of course _ the Moonweaver has to call him out like this and Molly pointedly turns away, though he’s still thinking about Caleb when he does. About his lips on Caleb’s, about his breath, filling Caleb’s lungs. About how he’d been covered in Caleb’s blood.

Is still. 

“Are you alright?” A voice asks softly from across the dome. It’s Caleb.  _ Of course _ , it’s Caleb. With Molly’s luck, it’s always going to be Caleb. 

He turns to the source of the voice. 

It is, actually, Caleb. 

“I’m fine, Caleb. How’re you? Not every day you take a sword through your abdomen.”

“Thank you.”

It takes Molly half a minute to realize what’s been said and formulate a response. “Pardon?” 

“Thank you. You saved my life today. I would not be here without you. There have been...many instances since our initial acquaintance where that is true. You are always…” Caleb pauses to scratch his head. “Looking out for me, it seems. I...need to apologize.” 

Now Molly is thoroughly confused. “For what?” 

“I did not do enough to look out for you. Forgive me?”

It’s the last thing Molly ever expected to hear, and from Caleb no less. He blinks, rather rapidly and drops his pendant. He hadn’t even realized he’d been fiddling with it. 

“I…” he stammers. “No, well, not like that!” he holds up his hands when Caleb’s face contorts at the word. “I do...forgive you, but it... _ I’m _ the one who should be... _ fuck. _ ” 

“You are not alright. You are liar and not a very good one. Tell me, what is wrong, Mister Mollymauk?”

“I kissed you,” he blurts into the night, immediately feeling his face heat. “I mean, it wasn’t a  _ kiss _ , but I...you stopped breathing and I-”

“ _Thank_ _you_ ,” Caleb says again, emphasizing the word. “I am alive, because of you. And this is more than I could do for you in return. Do you understand?” 

Molly shakes his head. “No, Caleb, it’s not about...fair trade, or even steven, it’s...I just didn’t want you to die. That’s all. I don’t blame you for what happened to me. It was just...bad luck. You couldn’t have done anything, I don’t think. I was...and we didn’t have a cleric. It’s not on you. It’s  _ not _ .” He doesn’t reiterate how poorly he’s still feeling, regardless of the fact that he actually saved Caleb’s life by doing the very thing he’s agonizing over. 

Caleb takes a moment before standing, steady and sure-footed, for all the healing and sleep he’s gotten thus far, and weaves his ways through the sleeping forms of their party, to sit by Mollymauk. “For the record, if you had really kissed me, I would not, erm, I would not have minded.” 

Molly forces himself to keep his mouth shut.

“I have missed you,” Caleb continues. “And you...you have missed much. But there are things you do not know about me that I-”

“Stop.” He’s amazed words even come to him. “I’m not sure what happened to that perfect memory of yours, but if you don’t recall, your past doesn’t matter to me. No one’s does. So whatever it is you think I won’t like, forget it. I don’t regret saving you, and if...if that was a kiss, I don’t regret giving it to you.” 

“You gave me more than that, Molly,” Caleb says, leaning in close. “You gave me life.” 

This time, it’s a real, right, proper kiss. And Molly, after a moment’s startle, kisses Caleb right back. 

It’s bittersweet, to know they’ve made it this far, despite everything he’s missed, but this time, Molly wouldn’t give it up for the world. 

He holds Caleb close to him, and thanks the Moonweaver. 

Some things are too precious for words. 

Molly closes his eyes, and sighs, happily, held tight and secure in Caleb’s arms. 

“I’m supposed to be keeping watch,” he manages to mutter. “How the hell did I end up here, with you?” 

“There is an old Zemnian saying, Mister Mollymauk,  _ Einem geschenkten Gaul schaut man nicht ins Maul _ , but I have heard it said in Common, too.” 

“Oh?” 

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” 

Molly stifles a laugh and sits up, meeting Caleb’s shining gaze. “That’s good advice. I won’t.”  _ I won’t.  _

“Good.” 

And that time, Molly kissed Caleb instead. 


End file.
